


we put the world away (we get so disconnected)

by horlik_aholic



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Dreams, Dreams vs. Reality, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-17 20:58:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2322956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horlik_aholic/pseuds/horlik_aholic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greek Mythology AU where Niall's sad, Zayn's immortal, and Liam and Louis are doing what they can. </p><p>Featuring wrathed gods and ancient curses and dazzled Niall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we put the world away (we get so disconnected)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lowi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lowi/gifts).



> I am very clearly not British, so although this is set in London, it's almost entirely American slang with some attempts at British slang sprinkled in. 
> 
> All mistakes are my own and this is purely fictional, blah blah blah. 
> 
> All 3 prompts you gave me were so great, and I had a hard time picking just one, but I really, really loved this prompt (totally love Greek Mythology) and I tried my very best to do it justice! Hope you like it, love :)

Niall startles awake, hands clammy and an uneasy feeling settled deep in his belly.

It’s not exactly a surprise; this has been happening on and off for months now, always the same dream that has him jerking awake.

It starts with him running- a long, deserted road without street signs or any distinct features to indicate distance- until he reaches a bridge. He always slows down to a walk at the same point, just as he crosses onto the bridge, the only sound his own heavy breathing ringing in his ears. The bridge is just as deserted as the road, and he never ventures close enough to the sides to see what he’s crossing. When he reaches the highest point, he’s forced to come to an abrupt stop as the bridges just ends, dropping off into nothingness. He always finds himself looking down into darkness, trying to determine what’s beneath him. Just as he  starts backing away from the edge, his foot slips out from under him and he tumbles forward. He jolts awake just as his body becomes air born, every time, without fail.

Each morning he wakes up unsettled, desperately clutching at the edges of reality.

Pushing himself into a sitting position, he takes a deep, steadying breath before dragging himself out of bed. The hardwood floor is cold against the bottoms of his bare feet as he makes his way to the kitchen. It’s a short walk, his living space just a lonely one bedroom flat that still somehow feels too big at night.

He runs the tap, watching the empty space in his cup disappear as it fills with water as cold as his old sink can muster (room temperature at best). Regardless, the water feels good going down his dry throat, and he finishes the cup in three gulps flat.

He finally feels the familiarly vivid dream beginning to slip away as the last traces of sleep desert him, until all that’s left is the ghost of a memory.

The red glow of the stove clock catches his eye- 6:58AM- and he lets out a sigh. It’s just barely light outside, but he pulls on some joggers and tennis shoes and hits the road.

Before the dreams started, running was his anchor, the thing that grounded him. He’s always been a bit lost in his head, and nothing helped being him back quite like running did. That scratch in his throat and the burn in his lungs, the tiredness in his legs and the pounding of his feet against the pavement- it was like a reminder, something that kept him from retreating too far into his own head when things got to be too much. 

Now, though, even running leaves him feeling a bit lost. Niall can’t help but feel like even his consciousness is just a mirror of his dreams.

He resents them, resents how they’ve blurred the edges of his existence, got him stuck in this rut that even running can’t get him out of anymore.

* * *

 

By the time Niall’s showered and finished breakfast, it’s 9:23 and he’s running late. He grabs his keys and his bag and he’s out the door, letting it swing shut behind him.

He’s on autopilot as his legs trace the familiar path to work. A 4 hour shift, 2 classes, and an essay still await him, and he’s already feeling drained. 

Chimes greet him when he finally pushes through the door at 9:41, 11 minutes late. 

"Niall, punctual as ever," Louis says in place of good morning, "so honored you decided to join us."

He feels the tension in his shoulders release a bit, and he lets himself grin. “Shove off Tommo, as if you weren't 20 minutes late for your shift.”

"Yes, well," he waves Niall off, turning back to work, "technicalities. C’mon then."

Making his way around back, Niall breathes in the smell of the freshly baked pastries as he ties on his apron. Louis’ presence and the familiarity of the bakery have got him feeling like an active participant in reality for the first time that day; finally out of his own head.

Hearing the register click, Niall turns to watch the older lad wait on a customer. Louis has been a staple in Niall’s life since the blonde started working at the bakery 2 years ago. Niall was probably half in love with him for about 6 months- he’s  _still_  probably half in love with him, even if it’s turned into more of a hero worship by this point- but Louis really isn't his type; not to mention he's got this stupidly sweet (way too sweet for Louis, anyway) boyfriend Liam. Louis’ got this imposing way about him, this  _I don’t give a fuck_  attitude that’s really fucking intimidating before you get to know him, and still a little intimidating even after you get to know him, but.

He’s the best fucking friend Niall could’ve asked for. He’s fiercely loyal and relentlessly honest and unconditionally caring (though Niall would never tell him any of these things to his face, he’d have a strop and ignore Niall for a week.)

"Went for a run this morning bro?" Louis leans against the counter, glancing sideways at Niall’s still damp hair.

"Yeah," Niall sighs, already knowing what’s coming next as he picks a blueberry muffin out of the display case and hands it to the waiting customer.

Louis just nods slowly, and Niall’s trying to decide whether he’s thinking or listening to music in his head when he asks, “Same dream, then?”

Stacking new pastries in the display case, Niall draws out the pause until it starts to feel rude. He stands upright and scrubs at his face, just nodding his affirmation. 

He hears Louis cluck his tongue before asking, "You have a shift tomorrow?"

"Uhh, yeh, think so," Niall pulls out his phone, checking the calendar app, "Not till 1 though, then I'm in class till 7:30. You working?"

“Nah, m'off tomorrow. Come over to mine and Liam’s when you get out of class tomorrow, yeah? I'd say come over tonight but Liam's taking me out, decided to be a proper boyfriend for once. He actually told me to 'look sharp,' can you believe it?” Louis deadpans, looking incredulous, "As if I don't always."

Niall raises his eyebrows and looks pointedly at the stains on Louis' work kit, cackling when Louis flips him off. "Yeah, alright, I'll be there," he says eventually, once his laughter has subsided. Louis barely acknowledges it- they like to pretend Niall has the option to say no, even though they both know he doesn't. 

* * *

 

Niall’s running. He feels like he’s running for his life, although there’s no one chasing him. In fact, there’s no one around him at all. Just emptiness, black pavement stretching out ahead of him forever.

Everything aches, but he doesn't stop. Keeps going and going until suddenly, there’s a bridge in front him, towering overhead. He slows to a walk, crossing the lip of the bridge. He’s not sure what it is, but he doesn't venture to the sides, stays dead center of the path till he reaches the edge. It ends rather abruptly; doesn't even reach a destination, just stops at its peak.

Niall takes a step forward, about to dare a glance over the edge, when he notices the man blocking his path. He immediately steps back, feels like his whole body is being doused in freezing water, something isn't right, something’s  _different_. 

But then he catches a glimpse of the man’s face and he forgets to care.

The word ‘man’ falls short, its not  _enough_ , doesn't do justice to the beautiful creature stood in front of him. He’s ethereal, Niall has never seen anyone like him before.

Everything about him seems effortless. His hair is jet black, intimidatingly so- more of a black hole than an actual color. His skin is more than a few shades darker than Niall’s, but it’s got this glow to it that seems almost divine, flawlessly smooth and healthy. His lips are parted in thought, so pink against the white of his teeth that Niall wants to reach out and touch. 

And his eyes.

His eyes, framed with thick, full lashes, are a deep brown near the center and fade out to a bright gold around the edges. They’re beautiful, sparkling despite the obvious lack of sun, but the sadness they hold is so overwhelming that Niall actually doubles over from the weight of the gaze. He stumbles a bit, not daring to tear his eyes away from the apparition in front of him out of fear that he might vanish. 

Steadying himself, Niall takes an unsure step forward. The figure stands still, head tilted like he’s appraising Niall.

Shifting uncomfortably, Niall stretches an arm out, overcome with the longing to  _touch_. His long fingers hover uncertainly over the sharp jut of the figure’s cheekbones, and just as he’s about to make contact, Niall jolts awake.

He's disoriented, rubbing at his eyes roughly because, even in this state of half-awareness, he knows something's off.

Flopping back onto his pillow, Niall squeezes his eyes closed to try to get his bearings when he's met with that face, it’s dazzling features still seared into his mind. 

His brain short circuits for a minute when he remembers his dream.  _His dream_. 

For months, that dream has been a constant, not a single detail different from on night to the next. But it was _different_ this time, and he wonders what happened, why it's changed. Hopes it happens again so Niall can keep seeing _him_. 

He sighs, realizing that he'd promised Louis he'd go over tonight. Niall figures he should probably tell Liam and Louis about the new development in his dream, but he can't shake the nagging feeling in the back of his mind urging him to keep the man to himself.

* * *

 

Louis and Liam are already drunk when Niall gets to their flat at 8:14.

All day, he couldn't get the face out of his mind, it's flawless features taking up the space he should've been using to focus on work and literature and maths. 

Louis' yelling about something on the telly, and he tackles Liam for the remote just as Niall crosses into the living room. Neither notice him.

“Oi!” Niall yells over the commotion, cutting in before they start making out or summat. Liam and Louis are fucking weird, there's no telling what to expect with them. They both stop, turning towards him expectantly, “my dream, it- changed.”

"As in, like, you had a completely different dream? Or, like-?" Liam questions, head cocking to the side in thought as he rolls off Louis, lands on the ground with a thump.

"No, the beginning was the same. Most of it was the same, actually. Just towards the end…" Niall pauses, chewing at his bottom lip. He can’t shake the uneasy feeling that’s settled deep in his stomach at the thought of telling his friends about the beautiful figure. Nothing happened in the dream, they hadn’t even made physical contact, but it still felt sort of- private. He thinks about those eyes, more beautiful and haunting than anything he’s ever seen, but also how  _familiar_ they seemed- he’s seen that emptiness before, sees it every morning, mirrored back at him as he prepares for another day of unrelenting loneliness.

"There was a man," he continues, speaking in aborted sentences, "Standing, at the end of the bridge. And he, um. We. I don’t know really. I guess he was- sort of like, blocking? The end, where I usually fall off. And yeah." The information needs to be shared, but he purposely keeps it vague. Doesn’t mention that the "man" didn’t quite seem human, doesn’t mention how floored Niall was in his presence. Doesn’t mention the sadness in his eyes. Definitely doesn’t mention how much that sadness reminds Niall of himself. 

Louis feigns a gasp, “Maybe he’s meant to be your  _savior_ , yeah?”

Niall laughs, but it feels hollow, “Don’t be a tit.”

"I've an idea!" Louis slurs, fumbling with him phone. He types something in and squints at it, before reading out loud, "Says here that recurring dreams are a message from ‘yourself to yourself’. Sounds like a load of shite if you ask me."

Niall grabs the open bottle of Fireball off the table, takes a long pull from it and focuses on the way it burns down throat as Louis throws the offending phone across the room. He shrugs, opening his mouth to comment when Liam cuts in, “Wait no, give me that.”

He gets up shakily, using his right hand to balance himself on the armrest of the couch, before snatching up Louis’ phone. 

Liam brings the phone close to his face, clearly typing something else in. “This website-” he pauses, squinting at the screen, “uh, dreammoods.uk, says that bridges can mean you gotta make an important decision, a transitional period- ha, maybe Niall’s gonna be getting his period- or that you re trying to connect two things together.”

Niall takes another swig of his drink, rolling his eyes. When he puts his cup down he’s met with both Louis and Liam’s gaze, looking at him expectantly.

The room is silent for a moment until Louis breaks in, “Well, which is it then Neil?”

A surprised cackle escapes Niall, “You’re not serious about this bollocks are you?”

The resulting silence is uncomfortable, and Niall tugs a bit at the collar of his shirt. “Um. None of those I guess? I can’t think of any decisions I’ll be needing to make and I don’t even know what a transi-whatever means.”

"What about the last one then? Are you trying to connect two things?" Liam asks, strangely focused.

"Nothing except possibly my fist with your face for that period comment," Niall raises his eyebrows at Liam, who in, turn raises his hands in surrender. 

Louis looks between the two quickly before turning his attention to his drink and downing the rest of it.

"More shots!"

* * *

 

Niall wakes up groggily, tries to roll over and promptly falls off the couch. "Fucking cunt," he mutters, entire body groaning in protest as he sits up, head throbbing and vision swimming.

Shielding the bright sun from his eyes, he rubs at his temples, veins pulsing with his hangover. There are a few pills and a glass of water on the end table beside the couch and he silently counts his lucky stars that he has a person as lovely as Liam in his life. 

Grimacing, he swallows the pills and chances a peek at his watch. It’s a quarter past 11.

Niall closes his eyes, giving the medicine a chance to kick in, and in a sharp stab of bitter disappointment he realizes he hadn't had any dreams that night. It's not unusual; even the recurring dream would occasionally skip a night, _especially_ if he was drunk. He kicks himself for not thinking about it earlier, probably wouldn't have drank if he had. 

Liam’s in the kitchen humming to himself, long since returned from his run and showered. The kid’s an enigma- he goes his whole life without drinking until he’s 19 and finds out he actually  _does_  have two working kidneys. By all accounts, his tolerance  _should_  have been absolute shit, but somehow-  _somefuckinghow_ \- he handles his liquor like a champ. It’s even impressive to Niall, who’s fucking _Irish_. He’s never even seen Liam with a hangover. 

Niall lays back down, itchy carpet digging into his arms, when he hears Louis. Louis' storming down the stairs loudly, probably trying to make everyone else as miserable as he feels. “Liam, mate,  _tell me_  you've made brekkie.”

"Yeah, about 3 hours ago you giant twat," Liam shoots back with a snort.

Niall groans in frustration, another day he has to wait before he can potentially see the man again.

* * *

 At work that afternoon, Niall spilt coffee on 2 separate customers and mixed up nearly every order. 

"Mate, you’re alright?" Louis kept asking, concern masked by a suspiciously raised eyebrow no matter how many times Niall told him he was fine. Niall could hear see the worry etched in his features anyway. He'd barely spoken a word that morning, and he let Liam and Louis chalk it up to his hangover, but Louis'd started catching onto him by the time they got to work.

But now it’s 9:20pm and all he wants to do is go back to sleep, wants to know if he’ll see the man again.

Skipping homework, he pulls on a pair of sweatpants and goes about his nightly routine quickly. He lets out a sigh of relief when his body hits the bed, bone achingly tired and hopeful for dreams of  _him_. 

He fully expects to fall asleep immediately, snuggling into his pillow as his eyelids flutter shut, but sleep eludes him. Tossing and turning for what feels like hours, he finally lifts his head to peer at the clock- it’s only 9:56pm. A frustrated exhale passes his lips, and the face pops into his mind again like clockwork. 

The clarity with which he can recall the figure from his dream is alarming- with the exception of his recurring dream, he’s always had difficulty remembering dreams come morning. His mind traces over the face’s features once more. The structure of it is beautiful, cut like glass; all sharp angles and defined planes complimented by the smoothest looking skin Niall’s ever seen. It softens the harshness of the cheekbones and jawline and gives it a kind appearance. Niall is more blown away every time the face reappears in his mind, which is more often than he’d like to admit. 

He’s running desperately, not taking in oxygen fast enough to accommodate his rapidly expanding and compressing lungs. Though he’s not sure what he’s running towards, he can’t help but feel its vitally important. He crosses onto the bridge and keeps running, doesn't slow until he sees a figure silhouetted in the distance. It hits him then, the urgency in his steps finally making sense.

"Hey!" he wheezes out. The sound echos in the emptiness and the figure startles. 

He looks around, before responding slowly,  ”Hi…”

His voice has Niall stopping in his tracks an indeterminate distance away from the figure. The voice surrounds him like smoke, has him feeling like he’s back home,  _Ireland_  home, wrapped in his favorite blanket that he got for Christmas in ‘99, sitting on his family couch watching football and drinking tea, just the way his mum makes it, just the way he likes it. At the same time though, he feels the weight of the past few years on his shoulders, feels the emptiness and sadness and homesickness and  _loneliness_  washing over him like his subconscious is trying to reconcile the two extremes.

He staggers a little under the onslaught of emotion, willing himself to focus on catching his breath, first and foremost. The figure is standing stock still, left eyebrow raised, appraising Niall just like he had last time. 

"Are you-" Niall starts, shaking his head, clearing his brain. Starts again, "I’m Niall." His voice sounds weird to his own ears. Taking a cautious step forward, he brings himself within arms length of the other. 

He just nods, studying Niall’s face, and he can’t remember the last time he felt this vulnerable. Typically, he hates this feeling; makes a point to keep himself closed off, sadness tucked deep inside his chest where it stays hidden, only making itself known on particularly lonely nights in the emptiness of his flat. But surprisingly, right now, with golden tinged eyes trained on him like they can read his every thought, he doesn’t feel the need to crawl out of his skin. It’s not comfortable by any means, having his emotions laid bare for the stranger across from him, but he thinks maybe the stranger _understands_. Empathizes, even. 

It’s quiet for a long moment, an indeterminate amount of time, before he finally answers- a single word.

"Zayn."

He thinks he can actually feel the nerves firing in his brain, trying to fit this new piece of information into place, finally assigning a name to the face. 

"Zayn," Niall repeats in wonder, testing the name on his tongue. Even his  _name_ feels rich, and he sees the corner of Zayn’s mouth quirk up in a smile.

It’s breathtaking. 

"Would you-" Niall starts and stops again, not sure how to address what he wants to ask. He takes a steadying breath, "Are you- are you real?"

Zayn’s eyebrows quirk up again, perfectly arched along his brow bone, and he opens his mouth like he’s about to reply when he’s interrupted by an urgent, incessant buzzing. As the buzzing gets louder, Zayn starts fading out in front of Niall’s eyes.

He’s reaching out for Zayn, willing him to stay, when he blinks awake. 

The buzzing hasn’t stopped, coming from directly beside Niall’s ear, more annoying then ever. He snatches his phone from the bedside dresser, not even bothering to look at it before he slides it open.

"Eh?" he tries to sound angry, but his voice is rough with sleep and he’s still a bit disoriented, so it mostly comes off as confused.

An equally confused Louis responds to him, surprise laced in his voice. “Niall, mate? Did I wake you?”

Niall throws his arm over his eyes with a groan, recalling the face- Z _ayn’s_  face, he amends- with the corners of his lips turned up.

"A bit, yeah," he makes an aborted motion to sit, but gives up halfway, rolling onto his side pathetically.

"Can’t believe you were still sleeping, normally by now you’ve gone on 6 runs, ate 3 breakfasts, and showered twice."

He doesn’t know what time it is- doesn’t care, really- just knows its early afternoon. He grunts, “Get fucked,” only mostly kidding. He knows he’s being a twat but he can’t help it. If it wasn’t for Louis, he’d still be talking with Zayn right now.

He freezes, ignoring Louis’ blabbing on the other side of the line.

 _Zayn’s not real_.

Made up. Dreamt. Imagined. A figment of Niall’s mind that, in reality, is probably just a coping mechanism. A trick of Niall’s imagination to deal with his oppressive loneliness. He knows all this, but still.

He has to remind himself.

* * *

 

Niall floats through the day, curiosity thoroughly piqued as he considers Zayn. 

Zayn who isn’t real.

Despite getting more sleep the previous night than he’s gotten in years, Niall’s exhausted. He’s counting down the hours until he can get into bed, can see Zayn again.

Liam texts him at some point during the mid-afternoon, as he does every Friday, while Niall is sat in one of his classes. 

**come overr for movie night tonight mate, lou and i will even let you pick this timee!!**

Niall declines, citing his exhaustion as reason for bailing. He can tell Liam’s worried, between the late start this morning and not jumping at the chance to pick to movie, but he doesn’t relent. He just wants to retreat into his dream world. 

He avoids Louis for his entire 3 hour shift, which is difficult given the size of the place and Louis’ insistence on making conversation, but he manages to get home without giving too much of an explanation for ditching them.

The covers are wrapped around him and he’s drifting off to sleep even earlier than he had the night before, silently relieved to be escaping. 

This time, he knows what he’s running towards. More specifically,  _who_  he’s running towards. Zayn’s already smiling by the time Niall reaches him. 

"Hi Niall," Zayn speaks first this time. As always, Niall is blown away by the sensory overload that accompanies Zayn. 

"Zayn," its barely a breath, but he knows Zayn hears it. Niall can see the way his tongue pushes up against his teeth, holding back the bigger smile that’s threatening to overtake his face. 

Its quiet while both of them smile stupidly at each other, before Niall’s curiosity gets the best of him. 

"Who are you?"

Zayn’s smile drops a bit, still there but not quite as bright, and Niall wants to kick himself for asking.

“I’m Zayn, remember?”

Rubbing at his neck, Niall tries again, “No, yeah, I got that. Couldn’t forget, actually. But like,  _who_  are you? Why are you here?” 

"That’s, ah," Zayn looks away, biting his lip, "Difficult," he finishes, looking back at the blonde. "Probably best you figure that out on your own, yeah?"

"You save me," Niall blurts out, can’t stop himself. 

A gentle smile crosses Zayn’s face, “What do you mean?”

The red that colors across Niall’s face is unavoidable, and he ducks his head in embarrassment when he feels it spreading. “Here, usually I. Usually I fall off the edge,” he gestures towards the the drop off, which seems a lot less intimidating than it used to. He sucks in a breath a looks back up, forcing himself to make eye contact with Zayn, “Ever since you started showing up, I haven’t.” 

Zayn takes a step closer, the closest they’ve ever been, and Niall can feel his breath ghosting over his skin. He flushes. “Can I, ah. Can I touch you?” Niall starts, immediately backtracking, “Not like, touch you touch you, just like- you know- ah. Like are you really here? Not like are you really here because clearly you  _are_ , just like-“ 

The warmest sound Niall has ever heard cuts him off just then, and his breath catches as the words die in his throat. If he thought Zayn’s voice was beautiful, his laugh is  _to die for_. It’s got Niall off-kilter and it’s not exactly fair when Zayn is always so perfectly composed. 

"I’m not sure, to be honest. Never tried it, like," comes Zayn’s reply, intrigued. "Go on then, give it a go."

Niall’s not proud of the way his hand shakes, not even sure what it is about Zayn that’s got him so on-edge. He lets out a rush of air when his fingertips brush Zayn’s cheek, soft as he imagined it’d be and undeniably  _there,_ a solid surface receptive to Niall’s touch. 

"Christ, that’s a relief," Niall laughs, and Zayn joins in. He places his hand over Niall’s and Niall’s not convinced that he’s not going to pass out. 

"You’re very beautiful, Niall," Zayn makes, gripping Niall’s hand tighter.

Niall feels himself sway with the force of it. He’s never had such electricity running through him, hes never felt so alive, so grounded. He feels Zayn’s hand flatten gently against his hip, steadying Niall, and he has to close his eyes for a moment to regain his composure. 

Smiling kindly, Zayn gestures to a bench beside them. Niall’s never noticed there’d been a bench there before. 

They sit, Niall leaning his weight into Zayn slightly, feeling a bit drunk with it. “So, Niall, tell me about yourself.”

The sincerity in Zayn’s eyes has Niall turning towards him and telling him everything. He tells him about Ireland, about Greg and his mum and his da. About how much he  _misses_  them, even Greg, who can be a right twat at times. About school, about his classes, about how he finds the topics so interesting but he just can’t bring himself to do the work, how doesn’t feel like school is for him. About Louis and Liam, the best things that have happened to him since moving to London. About how when he’s with them, he feels a little less sad, a little less lonely. About how lonely he truly _is_ , something he’s never told anyone and that Louis and Liam have only guessed at. About how he just doesn’t feel like he belongs.

And Zayn listens, really truly  _listens_.

His eyes crinkle at the corners when Niall’s telling him about the things that make him happy, laughing along with him at dumb stories of Louis and fond moments with Liam. He wraps his arm around Niall and grips him a bit tighter when he talks about his sadness, his loneliness. Niall thinks Zayn understands.

"Well, what about you then, Zayn? M’ sick of hearing my own dumb voice," he laughs, a bit deprecatingly, and the corners of Zayn’s mouth turn down for just a second. 

"Not dumb," he mutters, before clearing his throat and speaking with purpose, "Maybe another time, yeah? It’s about time you woke up…"

Niall can feel the moment the edges of this reality start to blur, fading into a much less appealing reality.

"Wait!" he says, clutching at Zayn, who’s slipping out of his grip, "Will you be back?"

Zayn’s almost completely gone, but Niall thinks he can make out a responding, “I hope so,” before he’s aware of the bright sun streaming in his eyes from his bedroom window. 

"Shit," he curses to himself, rubbing at his eyes. He feels like he’s been hit by a truck, feels hungover even though he hasn’t had a drink since Liam and Louis’ a few days ago. 

He’s definitely late for his first class, so he doesn’t even bother.

He breezes through his second class without glancing at the professor once, absentmindedly fucking around on his phone and thinking about Zayn.

Niall’s flat is too lonely when he’s awake, and he shuffles around for a bit trying to figure out what to do with himself. He figures it’s late afternoon at best, and he’s pretty sure he’s got a shift at work coming up soon anyways so he pulls on his kit and heads out.

On the walk there, Niall replays every encounter he’s had with Zayn so far in his head. He feels weak just thinking about the way his hand grabbed his hip for support, and again he’s shocked by how clearly he can remember every detail, every touch.

Even as lost in his own head as Niall is, the look Louis gives him when he walks through the door is enough to force a bark of laughter out of the blonde.

"Niall what in the fuck-" he glances at an appalled customer, mumbling out an apology before turning back to Niall, "Your shift doesn’t start for over an hour, yet here you are in full work kit. I don’t think you’ve ever even been on time, let alone  _early_.” His eyes open wide, “Niall, mate,  _tell me_  you’ve turned up to work drunk. That’s  _gold_.” 

Niall blinks in confusion a few times, frowning, “M’not drunk!”

"Then the fuck-?" Louis’ cut off by the same customer, who’s started telling him off angrily. Niall stops listening, focusing back on Zayn. He can’t wait to get back to sleep.

When he rejoins reality, it’s from Louis waving a persistent hand in his face.  He’s cut the act, face looking genuinely worried as he peers at Niall. “What’s going on with you?” 

"Um," he’s not sure not sure how to respond, wants to keep Zayn to himself. Louis’d probably think he was going crazy if he told him, anyways.

So he shrugs instead, says, “The dreams have still got me fucked up I guess, dunno.”

"That reminds me actually! Has the man showed up in your dream again? Stupid Leemo was doing some fucking about on the internet and he was saying some shit about-"

Niall’s stopped listening- Louis (and maybe Liam by extension) has just given him the greatest fucking idea.

"Yeah, that’s sick Lou. Tell Liam I said thanks. Hey I gotta run, grab my shift for me maybe?" He’s out the door the next instant, hightailing it back to his flat that he’s usually so eager to get away from. 

He makes it back in record time, throwing his shit on the counter and pulling out his laptop. The homepage default is set to Google, which is great because that’s one less thing he has to do. He starts typing any variation of the name that seems plausible, coming up with dead end after dead end.

"Zane" leads him to links ranging from an erotic fiction novelist to a restaurant in California to a comedian.

"Zain" leads him to a Saudi Arabian mobile phone company.

"Zaine" turns up a hair salon and an Australian singer.

Finally, he gets lucky with “Zayn”. At first, all he’s coming up with is some British boy band member, but after a bit of scrolling he finds a promising looking Wikipedia page. 

He sucks in a breath as the page loads, forcing himself to actually read rather than just skimming. 

 

 

 

> Zayn Malik (Arabic: زين مالك alternate spelling for / _zæin_ / or / _zayin_ /) is the child of the minor god Morpheus, god of dreams, and mortal Patricia Malik.
> 
> A demigod by birth, Zayn was granted immortality by an infuriated Zeus seeking revenge on Hypnos, god of sleep. In Homer’s Iliad, Hypnos, father of Morpheus, famously aids Hera in tricking Zeus and ultimately allowing the Danaans (Achaeans) to defeat the Trojans. When Zeus awoke from the slumber that Hypnos and Hera put him in, he became enraged upon discovering that because of their trickery, the Trojans have lost the war.
> 
> In his quest for revenge and inability to act against his wife Hera, Zeus damned the next child born to Hypnos’ family to an eternity wandering the earth, invisible except in the dreams of mortals. Scholars have contested the exact parameters of the curse, but some interpretations include the theory that Zayn may never enter the same person’s dream twice. Another popular interpretation claims that it is also stated that Zayn may not speak to the dream’s subject, only observe.
> 
> For many years after his birth, Zayn managed to evade Zeus’ notice, hiding in the mortal world with his birth mother under the protection of both Morpheus and Hypnos. It was not until his 21st birthday that the curse took effect, a result of Zeus’ discovery of Zayn’s existence.

 

Niall’s mind is racing.

There’s no doubt that this is  _his_  Zayn, even though some things don’t quite fit. Firstly, the picture they’ve supplied looks  _nothing_  like the real Zayn- just a crude sketch of a stereotypical looking Greek hero. Secondly, there’s the bit about not speaking and never entering the same dream twice. Niall’s seen him on 3 consecutive occasions, and he’s spoken to him two of those times.

At the same time though, it explains so much. It explains the effect that just being in Zayn’s presence has on Niall,  _he’s a fucking Greek god_. Well, sorta. Close enough. Explains why Niall felt like he wasn’t quite human, ethereal. But mostly, it explains the sadness in his eyes, explains how Niall always feels like Zayn understands his loneliness. 

It’s early evening, the sun only just beginning to set, but Niall’s exhausted and he just wants to retreat into his dream world, anyways. He practically throws himself in bed, snuggling down into his mattress and turning to his side. When he closes his eyes, he drifts off immediately, finding himself following that familiar trail towards the bridge.

Towards Zayn. 

His legs are protesting beneath him, can’t carry him fast enough, and he lets out a grunt of exertion. Niall reaches the end and has a brief moment of panic when Zayn isn’t standing in his usual spot.

He hears a laugh ring out from his left and Zayn’s there, sitting on the bench that had appeared the last time they met, patting the space beside him. 

Niall sits down, tries to decide how to approach the topic, when his mouth moves of its own accord, “Malik?”

Zayn tenses, body angling away from Niall. He keeps his gaze planted solidly on his hands folded together in his lap. His voice sounds small when he asks, “How much do you know?”

"I-" Niall falters. How much does Zayn know about the world? He was presumably sentenced this fate an incredibly long time ago, farther back than Niall’s mind can even fathom. "D’you know what the internet is?"

The immortal looks up, clearly surprised and maybe even amused by the question, though his body language is still distant. “I do, actually, yeah. You’d be surprised, like. I pick up quite a lot about the world from people’s dreams.”

And there. That’s the first concrete,  _real_  information Niall’s gotten about Zayn directly from Zayn aside from his name. 

"Thank fuck," Niall sighs. He’d been genuinely worried he’d have to explain centuries worth of technology to Zayn, wasn’t sure if he’d even be able to.

Zayn looks at him expectantly.

"Eh, right, well anyways. I searched your name on the internet. Had to try a bunch of different spellings and all, but I finally came across an article on you. Said that," he pauses, swallowing hard, purposely avoiding eye contact, "that you are-  _were_ \- a demigod. Son of Morpheus, I think it said, turned immortal by Zeus and forced to flit through dreams forever. Sounds shitty, man.” He winces at his word choice, hopes Zayn won’t be offended at being called a man. 

Hes surprised to hear Zayn laughing, bright and loud and open. “Does sounds a bit shit when you put it that way. Also a bit ridiculous, yeah?”

Scratching at the back of his neck, Niall returns the smile timidly, “Yeah, you might say that. I think its totally cool though, you’ve got that sexy, brooding vibe about you.”

Zayn laughs again, the sound bursting out of him like even he wasn’t expecting it. “I don’t remember the last time I laughed this much. Ages ago.”

There’s a pause, and Niall’s whole body feels too warm. He makes Zayn laugh like he hasn’t in ages. That in itself feels like the accomplishment of a lifetime.

"So, m’sexy, huh?" Zayn wiggles his eyebrows and Niall can’t contain the  _fond_ he feels leaking out of his every pore, written so clearly across his face.

"Mate," Niall laughs, grinning at Zayn, "You’re a fucking  _Greek God_. You’re the actual definition of sexy, t’ be quite honest, m’not convinced that you’re not a child of Aphrodite.” 

Niall presses his weight into Zayn freely, feeling his body shake with laughter. This is a moment he’s going to want to remember. 

"What else did the internet say?"

Niall repeats as much of the Wikipedia page as he remembers, making a point not to mention Zayn’s mom at all. Something in his gut tells him that even all these years-  _centuries-_  later, being ripped from your family is not something that you get over quickly. 

"Oh, and it also mentioned something about you not be able to appear in the same person’s dream twice. Just as rubbish as the talking thing, obviously, since you’re  _here_  again,” Niall gestures around them.

"Actually, like. That’s true. Typically, at least. You’re the first person I’ve ever.. reappeared to," he’s speaking slowly, like he’s afraid he might scare Niall off, or break whatever weird spell exists that’s allowing him to reappear night after night. "The first time it happened, I just thought it was a weird coincidence, a freak accident, like. But then it kept happening. This doesn’t feel like a coincidence. At least, not to me," he adds the last part in quietly, an afterthought.

"No, not to me, either, Zayn. I was so afraid you’d be a one time thing, after that first time. I’ve been having this same, stupid dream for months, terrified of what it meant. Then you showed up and made it." He stops, looking pointedly at the ground. 

Zayn nudges his toe, urging him to finish his sentence.

"You made it not scary."

His gaze meets Zayn’s and its eerily still for a moment, for long enough that Niall begins to wonder if he’s about to wake up, when Zayn is moving towards him, connecting their lips tentatively. 

Zayn’s mouth is like nothing he’s ever experienced, moving sure and strong against Niall’s when they deepen the kiss. He feels Zayn’s tongue licking into his mouth, pressing their bodies together hungrily. Zayn’s kissing like he’s going in for the kill, and Niall’s already half-hard, he’s kissing a fucking  _Greek God_ , he’s kissing  _Zayn_. 

The imagine slips away and he ruts forward into the surface below him, soft with some give to it, and he groans when he realizes what’s happened.

He’s awake, laying in his empty bed that’s seen far too many sad, lonely one-night stands, and he’s achingly hard.

He finishes himself off in the shower, gasping Zayn’s name into the crook of his right elbow, forearm pressed against the tiled wall. 

Sighing, he gets out of the shower soon after. He’d been due for a good wank anyways, he just never would have guessed it’d come about like this. 

Niall’s not even sure what day it is anymore, time blending together meaninglessly in his head. He stays in his flat, doesn’t know if he’s got work or class. Doesn’t care. Just counts down the hours before he can go back to sleep.

* * *

 

"Wait-" Niall’s gasping laughter, can barely get his words out, "A fucking _toothbrush_?” 

Zayn’s grinning at Niall like he’s won the lottery, eyes crinkled in that way that Niall adores. 

"Yep," he pops the ‘P’, can’t take his eyes off of Niall, who’s got his head thrown back against the couch. "Wow," Zayn breathes, and Niall sobers up a bit, just enough so that his laughter is barely an echo, "Your smile is breathtaking. I just want to make you smile always." He bites at his lip, "Is that okay?" 

There isn’t even a moment’s hesitation before Niall’s replying, “Yes Zayn, I love you.” He knows he should be embarrassed- he’s just confessed his love for a Greek God, how fucking  _typical_ \- but he just can’t bring himself to be. 

Zayn’s eyes sparkle, so much happier than when Niall first encountered them (it still sends a thrill up his spine knowing that he’s the cause of that). “Think I might love you too, Niall.”

It’s ridiculous, it’s mad, and it’s so fucking  _Homeric Epic Poem_  that Niall could cry, but here they are; 5 meetings in and confessing their love for each other.

Niall is nothing less than thrilled. 

He sinks into the couch happily, a thought popping into his mind. 

"Hey, so can you like, control dreams?" He gestures to the couch they’re sitting on, which has replaced the bench. It probably should’ve occurred to him to ask that ages ago, but he’s been so wrapped up in Zayn that his mind registers little else.

Zayn shrugs, “A bit. Nothing too fancy though, like. And usually I don’t bother unless I’m  _really_  bored.”

Niall nods thoughtfully, rubbing circles over Zayn’s thumb where their hands are intertwined. “And what about when you’re not with me? Where are you then?”

"Miserably floating through other people’s dreams, waiting to come back to yours," he shrugs again, smirking as he untangles their fingers and wraps his hands around Niall’s waist possessively. "So let’s make good, efficient use of the time we have, yeah?"

Niall’s not about to object.  

* * *

 

Liam and Louis stage an intervention the following day. 

As a matter of fact, they wake him up with it, banging loudly on the door to his flat until he’s awake- pulling him away from Zayn.

He answers the door with a groan, dark circles like bruises under his eyes despite the fact that he spends nearly the whole day sleeping, now. 

His friends are wrapping him up in a hug before he can even process what’s happening. He hugs them back tightly, breathing them in. It occurs to him then how much he’s missed them. 

Liam guides him to the couch while Louis makes tea- he’s the only person Niall knows whose tea can rival his mum’s. (Though Maura’s tea always wins out in the end.  _Obviously_.)

When they’re all settled in the sitting room and Niall’s got his hands wrapped around the best cuppa he’s had in a while, Liam starts to speak.

"Niall, we’re," he glances at Louis, who’s nodding along, "worried about you. You’ve been," he starts ticking off his fingers as he lists, "Skipping class. Showing up to work an hour early and then ditching before your shift even starts. You’ve been locked in your flat, avoiding us and sleeping all day, but you still look like you haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep in weeks. What’s going on with you, brother?"

That word is like a punch in Niall’s gut, because that’s exactly what Liam and Louis have become to him- brothers. And it hurts that Niall can’t tell them about Zayn. 

He wraps Liam in another hug, shoots Louis a glance over Liam’s shoulder so that he knows Niall’s sending a hug his way, too. 

"I know, and I’m sorry I’ve worried you so much. It’s just been a rough week,"- Niall doesn’t even know what  _day_  it is- “and I’m working through some things. I promise this won’t last much longer.” 

He’s lying through his teeth. He’s got no idea how long this is going to go on for, _fuck_ , he’s got no idea what he’s even  _doing_. He can’t very well settle down with Zayn, start a life together. He grimaces, realizing that now isn’t the time or place to be having a crisis. 

Louis looks more serious than Niall’s ever seen him. He’s gentle with his words in a way that Niall’s never heard before, and that only makes it harder for Niall. “Ni, we  _know_. We know it hasn’t been easy for you, but we’re only looking out for what’s best for you. We want so much for you to be happy, first and foremost. Please talk to us.”

Every word Niall says in response is like a knife in his chest, not totally a lie but not honest enough to clear Niall’s conscience. “Louis, I love and appreciate you and Liam in ways that you wouldn’t understand. You have gotten me through time and time again, and you’ve been there for me every step of the way. You have to trust me when I tell you that I’m on my way to happiness. It may not seem like it right now, but I need you to believe me, because it’s _true_.” 

They stay on the subject only a short while longer, begrudgingly dropping it for the time being at Niall’s insistence. 

Liam and Louis stay for a while after that, the three of the laughing and playing FIFA together like they haven’t in what feels like ages.

When they finally leave, Niall’s totally drained, barely making it up to his bed before passing out.

* * *

 

Zayn pulls on Niall’s bottom lip with his teeth, and Niall lets out a groan. 

He pulls away reluctantly, taking a second to catch his breath. Trying not to laugh at the way Zayn looks like a petulant child.

"Zayn, I- What are we doing?" Niall looks down at his lap, folding his hands together nervously.

Beside him, Zayn lets out a sigh, and he can hear the tell-tale sound of Zayn running his fingers through his hair.

"I don’t know, Niall. I wish I could give you an answer that would make us both happy, but the truth is that I just don’t know, like. You make this whole situation so much less miserable. You make it worthwhile. I had a mom, you know- a normal, human mom, the strongest woman I’ve ever met, before Zeus came and ruined my life. Sisters, too. Beautiful, incredible sisters who never failed to make me smile. They loved me, unconditionally, and I love them too. And then Zeus came and took them all away from me. And I’ve always hated him, resented him for causing my loneliness and unhappiness, but now-" he takes a deep, shuddering breath, "I can’t bring myself to hate him anymore. Not when it’s led me to you."

Niall blinks. He can barely process what Zayn’s said to him, feels like he’s trying to run through treacle. 

He pulls Zayn in for a kiss, trying to express his overwhelming emotions with his lips. He keeps kissing him until he feels Zayn relax, then pulls away again. 

"You mean you’ve been alone all this time?"

"Not totally alone, but alone enough. My dad will visit me sometimes, Hypnos, too. I know they feel guilty about it. Aside from them, I’ve got this one mate, Harry-" he finally smiles, shaking his head, "Christ, what a bloody idiot. Hes a son of Aphrodite who is so charming and irresistible that one of the gods actually went and made him immortal. Just so they could keep him around." He’s full on laughing now, and its infectious- Niall can’t help but join. "Can you fucking believe it?"

Niall shakes his head, climbing up and straddling Zayn. He takes Zayn’s bottom lip between his own, tugging gently before responding against his mouth, “Can’t believe it. Gonna havta meet this Harry some day.”

* * *

 

Niall doesn’t know how many more times he meets Zayn. It all seems to have become his only reality, the one in which Liam and Louis exist slipping away. He can barely tell which reality is the dream, anymore.

Then, suddenly, it’s different. 

Zayn’s still there, unyielding as ever, but the bridge. It doesn’t stop. 

By the time Niall reaches him, Zayn’s already examining it, peering ahead at the part of the bridge that’s never been there before.

"What do you think-"

An unfamiliar voice cuts him off, “Shield your eyes, mortal.”

Zayn’s grabbing at Niall before he can even make sense of the situation, hand wrapping over Niall’s brow to block his vision. All he can make out is a nearly blinding flash of light, even obstructed by Zayn’s hands. When the hand finally slides away, the first thing he sees is Zayn rolling his eyes. 

"You know you don’t  _have_  to enter that way,” he says to the figure of a woman that’s stood in front of them, blocking their way to the unexplored parts of the bridges.

She simply winks at him before turning her gaze to Niall, who’s awestruck by her beauty and the power she emanates. 

"Hello, Niall," she says serenely, her voice wrapping around him like silk, "I see you’ve met my Zayn?"

Zayn scoffs, “I’d hardly call myself ‘your Zayn.’”

She waves him away with a hush, “You’re going to want to hear this, trust me,” she turns back to Niall, who’s planted in his spot, “I’m Hera, wife and sister of Lord Zeus, Goddess of Marriage. Unfortunately, it’s mostly my fault that our pretty little Zayn is stuck here. You see, I convinced Hypnos to put Zeus in a deep sleep all that time ago. I can hardly say I regret it, Paris and his Trojans had to pay for choosing Aphrodite over me, but, well. You know how it is. Water under the bridge now. Literally.”

She gestured to the bridge they’re on, laughing at her own joke. Niall laughs as well, still mesmerized.

"I do feel just awful for what’s happened to poor Zayn as a result. It’s quite a nuisance on my conscience, as a matter of fact, so here’s what I’m offering. As the Goddess of Marriage, it is clear to me that were the circumstances different, you two would be married or planning to marry," Niall has enough wits about him to blush softly, can't help the image that flashes in his mind of Zayn standing at the altar. Beside him, he feels Zayn shuffle closer, taking Niall's hand in his.

"I must admit, I'm a sucker for a good happy ending," Hera continues, eyes dropping to where Zayn and Niall's hands are entwined, "So I’m willing to offer you, Niall Horan, immortality; given that you use it to accompany Zayn, forever travelling with him through the dreams of mortals. You are free to accept or decline as you see fit. Should you choose to accept, all you need to do is cross the bridge to the other end. Conversely, should you choose to decline, rest assured that you will never receive such an offer again, and you will never see Zayn again. Whichever you decide, the outcome will be final. No changing your mind. May you choose wisely, Niall Horan."

She’s gone just as quickly as she appeared, this time without a blinding flash of light to accompany her departure.

Niall glances at Zayn, sees him standing there just as speechless as Niall is. He doesn’t know how long they stand there for, gaping at the place where Hera’s form had been.

Eventually, Zayn turns to him, “You have to go back.” His voice is flat, resigned. Niall can see all the sadness that’s returned to his eyes. 

"I can’t- Zayn I can’t leave you forever. I’d never be happy again. I’d spend my whole life regretting not going with you."

The sadness switches to conflict, and it’s like Niall can see Zayn’s brain battling with itself, “But your family, your friends. You can’t just up and leave them.”

Niall smiles a bit sadly, “I can’t just up and leave  _you_. I don’t even see my family anymore, haven’t in years. My friends-” he falters, seeing Louis and Liam’s faces in his mind, “My friends just want me to be happy.  _You_  are what makes me happy, Zayn, more than anything else in the world. I’ve never felt like I’ve belonged in my version of reality, and I know now that’s its because I belong here, with you. My choice is clear, Zayn, and my choice is you.”

Zayn looks at Niall the way that Niall first looked at Zayn all that time ago.

Wordlessly, he takes Zayn’s hand and together they walk down the unexplored path of the bridge, so many new and exciting possibilities ahead of them.

* * *

 

The whole immortality thing did take a bit of getting used to. Its  _sick_ , and Niall takes advantage of it whenever he can. Which is pretty often.

"Zayn, Harry, watch," Niall calls out, taking a running start off a cliff.

"Wait, I’ll come with you," Harry trails behind him, somehow managing to put his hair in a perfect bun just before he catapults himself off the cliff behind Niall.

They accelerate quickly to the bottom, hitting the water at a speed that would’ve killed a mortal on impact. Niall appears back at Zayn’s side with Harry the next instant, both of the laughing like madmen.

It’s fucking sick.

He misses his friends, though. Wishes he could’ve told them how it went down, that he’s  _happy_. Happier than he’s ever been, happier than his old reality could have ever made him. 

The dream switches then, they leave the beach scene and appear on what seems to be a football field. He looks around, taking in the scene when he spots them.

Not just one, but both Louis and Liam are maneuvering the ball down the field, perfectly in sync with each other.

Niall’s head jerks towards Zayn, who’s been watching him from the corner of his eye.

He shrugs, nonchalantly, like its no big deal, but Niall can see the smile cracking through his facade. 

“ _How?_ " he asks, awestruck. He knows Zayn has no control over the dreams they enter.

Zayn shrugs again, smiling without restraint now, “Pulled some strings, like. Talked to Morpheus and Hypnos and they agreed to do me a favor, figured they owed me one. Even got both of them in one dream which is hard to do, but should make it easier on them when they both wake.”

Niall’s grin threatens to split his face in half. “You’re the most fucking  _ace_ boyfriend, I fucking love you, _christ_.”

Just before he makes his way towards his friends, he turns to Zayn and pulls him in for a quick kiss, catching his eye when they part. Now, when Niall looks in Zayn’s eyes, all he sees is happiness shining back at him. And he understands.


End file.
